In Bed With Tom Riddle
Buffy whispered to Tom, "Together, you and I can change the world..."
He'd never noticed the freckles dusting the bridge of her nose before. Why? Why hadn't he, who prided himself on observing the small details, never noticed? Had she hidden them with powder? If so, it was a shame. Those tiny brown flecks emphasised her green eyes and dark lashes and brought attention to the endearing way her nose wrinkled as she spoke.
Did she hide them in case she was bullied about them? A girl in their year, Callisto Greengrass, had spent most of her first year being bullied over her freckled face. Tom – used to callous children and cruel jibes at the orphanage – had watched her being bullied without the slightest bit of sympathy. The world was not a nice place; the strong flourished and the weak either grew stronger or perished.
'Freckles are a sure sign of poor breeding and lack of skincare,' the Parkinsons had chimed at the unfortunate Greengrass. They'd then applauded one another on their good breeding and unmarked skin.
Buffy's freckles weren't there through a lack of skin care. They were so close that he could smell a trace of vanilla and coconut soap she'd used on her skin the previous day. As for poor breeding... How dare they say that! Buffy was a half-blood like him and no one had better accuse him of having poor breeding!
Buffy wrinkled her nose again, making the tiny freckles disappear. Now you see them, now you don't... A thought occurred to Tom – one so scandalous that his heart began to beat faster. What if...Did she have more freckles, in more private places? She was right there... right there on his bed... What if he closed the curtains around them? Would she lie back, letting him slowly strip off her clothes and then allow him to spend the entire day trailing kisses across her skin as he searched for elusive freckles?
Someone laughed loudly outside in the corridor. Focus! He needed to focus on her... mouth.
No! Not her mouth! Idiot! Stop fantasising and focus on her words!
Buffy continued, "...put the lawbreakers in Azkaban and let the dementor guards take care of them." She threw up her hands, the silver chain shining in the light. "The Ministry are making things, like, a billion times worse!"
Tom frowned, unsure of how much he'd missed. He wasn't normally a daydreamer. It must be because there was a girl he liked on his bed – his fifteen-year-old hormones were overwhelmed.
Buffy scowled – at whatever it was that was annoying her. "Why should we live under this kind of threat? We're magical, aren't we?"
Threat? Ministry? Lawbreakers? Was she... was she talking of the Statute of Secrecy? It had to be that!
"I agree," Tom replied. He'd always thought the Statue of Secrecy was a stupid idea. Grindelwald was right, it was time to embrace a new era and stop skulking in the shadows. Those with magic should live openly and those without it...
Tom had never given much thought to what should be done with Muggles. He supposed there were ways their brains could be altered and they could become biddable slaves. And if there was any experimental mind-altering enslaving going on, he'd volunteer Mrs Cole as a test subject.
His reply seemed to satisfy Buffy. "Good. Because I want you to know, I'm gonna change things. I'm not the kind of girl who'll take a back seat on this."
"Hmm." The power currently pulsating from her was making his own magic spark in response.
"...I guess, what I'm saying is..." She took a deep breath and her face took on a determined expression. "I'm prepared to take on the whole damn world if I have to. I don't care. Does that make me bad, Tom?"
"Oh, no," he breathed, delighted if a little bit surprised. 'Take on the world?' He'd known about her devious streak – she was a Slytherin, after all – but this confession showed she had a great deal of ambition as well.
This was a surprise. Too often, he'd seen an annoying tendency for her to 'go Gryffindor' whenever she came across injustice or saw some fool in danger. At first, he'd thought it would hold her back, but he'd been mistaken.
Going 'Gryffindor' had worked very much in Buffy's favour. For one, saving Rigel had put the Blacks into her debt and secured their protection. The dementor attack hadn't made her appear weak, it had brought compassion and respect from her schoolmates and even the BATT club had proved her ability to manipulate and influence others. If Dumbledore hadn't blocked her BATT campaign, she'd probably have had most of the school joining her animal rights group.
So... Buffy was ambitious. He found that he liked it – very much. He also liked the way she sat by his side, completely at ease on his bed while confessing her plan to take on the Ministry. They might be vague plans now, but that was something he could help her with. There were a lot of things he could help her with as long as she swore loyalty to him.
"... and make it a place without the evil creepers lurking in the shadows."
Evil creepers? What in Merlin's name were they? He'd missed part of the conversation again. However, there was one thing he was certain about.
"I don't believe in evil," he said flatly. Was this a Muggle thing? Muggles believed in good and evil; he did not. He continued, "I don't believe there is a God either."
He'd been sure of this from a small child. If there was a God, he'd have saved his mother and he wouldn't have been left in a filthy Muggle orphanage. He went on. "God is just a manufactured concept created by Muggles to explain why they are so powerless. For those with magic there is power, if you are strong enough to find and take it."
Buffy shook her head. "You're wrong, Tom. There IS evil. I've seen it. It's ugly and it's cruel, and it needs stopping."
She looked away from him, her eyes losing their focus and taking on that glazed look he hated. She was no longer with him... He hated it! He hated being second best to something that he couldn't see or fight against.
He reached over and touched the back of her hand lightly. A jolt of electricity shot between them, surprising them both.
"Very well," he begrudgingly replied. He hoped she wouldn't start sermonising about doing good deeds like the elderly vicar did when he'd visited Wools. "Let's say that evil exists –."
"It does!"
He tilted his head, a lock of dark hair falling over his forehead rakishly. "If evil exists, what makes you think that you have the power to... banish it?"
Her eyes flicked to his and then away before he had the chance to read any of her emotions. She avoided his eyes after that, fiddling with the chain encircling her wrist, twisting it around and around as she spoke. "Um, me and evil go hand in hand on a regular basis"
She seemed to find that funny, giggled and shot him an unfathomable look from under her lashes. "Or, maybe, that's more hand-to-hand."
Realizing that he wasn't going to get the joke, she continued.
"Right, um, about the evil banishing. I like the word banish. It's like a mix of batter and vanish. Which is totally a good word for what I am and what I do... I'm sort of one thing and another layered on top of it – like a sandwich. And I'm babbling, aren't I? If I don't stop I'll just go for a complete babble-fest that would put Willow's epic babblage to shame..." She stopped talking and reached out to put a hand on his forearm.
"This is what I've been trying to tell you. I need a thing. There's this thing that's in Hogsmeade – possibly. And, you know, a little rule-breakage never hurt anyone."
Rule-breakage?
She smiled. "You could go visit the stores while we're down there. That would make the journey beneficial to the mutual."
Sometimes Tom wondered if she was even speaking the same language as him. None of this made sense. Was it a Lovegood thing? An American thing? Or, a Buffy... He frowned, realisation dawning on him.
"I see." He nodded, looking at her upturned face, trying not to dwell on freckles. "Mutually beneficial... Ah, I see. When I didn't bite before, you made up this entire speech about taking on the world to seduce me into sneaking out of Hogwarts with you."
"Seduce? No!" Buffy squirmed – guiltily – and her squirming brought her even closer to him – her thigh touching his. Had she done that on purpose?
Madness made him want to kiss her, sanity held him back. He'd never hear the last of it from Malfoy if he kissed Buffy and got slapped him in return. Even if Tom terrified Malfoy into silence, he knew the other boy would always be thinking about it – gleefully. He'd wait for the kiss. One day, she'd want to kiss him and he'd make sure she that never stopped wanting to kiss him. He just needed patience – and possibly more of Malfoy's books. His hormones might be screaming out for immediate satisfaction, but he'd always found playing the long game paid the best dividends and seducing Buffy wouldn't be much different.
But why was she so insistent that she had to go to Hogsmeade today? If he asked, would she tell him the truth straight away? Or was it better to tease her into the truth?
"So this thing that you think may or may not be found in Hogsmeade," he started. "Would it have anything to do with the Gladrags winter footwear collection that you and Roz Moody were talking about the other day?" Only a few days ago, he'd passed Buffy and Roz in the library and seen them engrossed in a Gladrags brochure.
Buffy blushed, then rallied gamely, sticking her chin out at him. "Give a girl the right pair of shoes and she can conquer the world."
The idea was ludicrous and Tom laughed. When Buffy's expression became affronted, he laughed even more. He shouldn't laugh like this – it would only encourage her oddness – but she really was adorably crazy and quite... lovely.
Malfoy looked over – startled by the sound of his laughter. So did Avery, and Lestrange – who'd stayed by the door fending off nosy students – looked over his shoulder at them in shock. They all knew that Tom rarely, if ever, laughed like this and never before in a girl's company. A polite, almost frigid smile was all he'd ever been able to muster.
They'll think I'm weak. My enemies will use her to exploit my weakness. Knowing it didn't stop his laughter. Sod the lot of them! He was already more powerful than his classmates. If anyone tried hurting Buffy, they'd wish they'd never been born.
Buffy also seemed surprised by his laughter, but for a completely different reason. "I don't think wearing fashionable footwear during world save-age is funny." Her bottom lip jutted out and she pouted.
Oh Merlin, that pout! Even Salazar Slytherin would have had trouble refusing her.
"What's in this for me?" he asked, when he finally stopped laughing. "I know what you're getting out of this trip – new shoes."
"It's not just about me buying more shoes!" she spluttered, her eyes sparkling with annoyance. "This is not about retail therapy!"
"Ah, yes, the mysterious thing that may or may not be in Hogsmeade," he teased. Crossing his arms as much as the chains allowed, he looked at her from beneath hooded lids and let his innate magic colour his words. "Tell me, what is it you seek?"
Malfoy looked over and Tom knew the other boy was listening. He could order him to leave – tell all three to go out of earshot – but he'd already discreetly gestured for them to stay as chaperones. It might be 1942 and not 1842, but a girl discovered in a boy's bed could get a bad reputation. It wasn't fair if her reputation could be ruined by Dumbledore's ill-thought-out punishment.
"Um..." she faltered and glanced at the others in the room while gnawing at her bottom lip.
"What's in Hogsmeade that's so important?" he pressed.
Her eyes went to him and then darted to the others again. "Remember at Wools, when we exchanged info? Come with me to see Caradoc, I'll tell you then."
Tom's eyes moved over to Malfoy as he considered it. It was a reasonable request, and he was smart enough not to press her further. "Very well. Since Madame Bones doesn't allow visitors before breakfast, I propose we finish dressing and–."
"I'm already dressed," she interrupted, smirking smugly.
"And some of us aren't," he replied, gesturing at himself. "You're lucky that I wasn't showering when the chains dragged you to me."
The implication made Buffy's eyes widen and she stared at his chest, and reddened.
"Also..." Tom continued. Knowing what he was about to say would be the coup de grâce in unsettling her, "...you're hair is... let's say, untidy." He reached out and gently tugged a lock of hair at the side of her face.
"Whaa? Nooooo!" she squealed, wriggling off the bed. The chains between them snapped and vanished – Buffy didn't notice, but Tom did.
She darted to the mirror hanging nearby, she discovered the elflock and began unravelling it. "Why didn't they tell me I had knots?"
By 'they' he supposed she meant her roommates. "I've no idea," he replied truthfully. The knot seemed to have a life of its own. Whenever she unravelled it, it tangled up once more. Tom tried to keep the corners of his mouth turned downwards and not laugh. "It's very sad."
Buffy shot him a dark look, which he ignored.
"Anyway," he went on, "I believe now that the chains have stopped you from leaving, they'll let us finish dressing before rejoining at the assigned time. We will go to breakfast – "
She opened her mouth to argue and he held up a finger, stopping her.
"No. I'm not going anywhere without my breakfast. Afterwards, we'll visit our dear friend, Caradoc Dearborn, in the infirmary." And if the words 'dear friend' came out with a hiss, he still managed to smile pleasantly and pretend he couldn't hear Malfoy's snigger of laughter.
….